Late Father's Day part 1

Dear new father,

It’s the second day after Father’s day and I still find myself in the awkward position of having no words for this Father’s day post/letter/blog thing. I’m not appreciating the writer’s block at all, because normally these things come quickly and naturally to me. I’ve been writing to the people I’ve loved for years and years. Why is it so hard to with you? I honestly don’t know. I get all tongue-tied, as far as writing to you goes and that’s just ridiculous, because as you know, I never ever have problems talking to you face to face. Ever.

So…what to say? I’m glad I know you. I’m glad I’ve never killed you, even when I’ve had the overwhelming urge to. I think it’s a little awkward that the only reason I first met you was because I was hitting on your friend, but it makes a funny story. Not really cute, but funny. You make me smile, even when I’m pissed as hell at you. You make me think and discover new things about myself, even when I resist with ALL my strength. You continue to try to expose me to horrific music that I have absolutely no interest in and you put up with my music with minimal complaints. You try to make me have a clean room. You can out-logic me at any point during the day (a fact that makes me crazy) but you still know when to keep your mouth shut.

Your friends described you as the most honorable. In this day and age, that’s a rare description, and quite honestly, it’s the first thing that convinced me I liked you. Besides the facial hair. You show me what real forgiveness looks like. You’ve only made me cry a lot. You dance with me. You keep my freaking out over almost everything to a minimal level. I really do like that you make me try new things, even when I’m resisting. You listen when I talk even when I don’t want you to. You make me talk about the hard stuff, the embarrassing stuff and the stuff that makes me want to curl up in a little ball and die. And surprisingly, I am getting better at it. Sort of.

I suppose, to be continued,

Megan

Too Damn Long

It's been too long and I'm sorry for anyone who bothers following me. Long days and pleasant nights to each and every one of you, even the ones who aren't reading what I write.

It's been a crazy few months. I am 4 1/2 months pregnant with identical twin boys. I would be worried about the future of my sanity, but as my friends love to remind me, I lost it years ago! In any case, I could write about the trials and tribulations of the last few months but...then my therapist would be out of a job, and that would be exceptionally problematic for us both.

I love the movie Sweet Home Alabama. As far as feel good movies go, it's an excellent one, but I love how real it feels.

Letters to Y'all

Dear ones,

I don’t even know your names yet. Forgive me for not always addressing this letter as a plural; it’s still hard to think of y’all as a twosome even though I’ve seen y’all in the pictures. It’s not so hard to believe I’m pregnant these days, because I’m sick all the time and my body is changing in a bunch of different ways, and I’m even more hormonal, which according to some people is darn near impossible to be. However, I’m sure you’ll see it all at some point, if your daddy and I decide to have more children. Be afraid, be very afraid!
In any case, I’m writing to you because I’m sure at some point you’ll want to know how I was feeling at 13-14 months. Well, you probably won’t care, but I will. And I want to remember how I felt, the good and the bad. And the scary, ‘cause there’s some of that. It’s April 2010. Currently, my cat (which is actually the family cat) likes to sit on my stomach and purr, which makes your dad mad. He has called it stepping on the children and appears to take great offense at it. I personally think he knows you are in there and is saying hello and expressing his love for you! Since apparently EVERYONE is going to want to touch my stomach when it gets bigger, why can’t I let the animal, who I actually like, touch my stomach? Riddle me that!
We have a baby four month old Rottweiler who thinks she’s the queen of the house. She’s very sweet and friendly, and we (meaning my brother, my mom, my dad and me) are trying very hard to train her before y’all get here. I’m eighteen (young, huh?) and it’s pretty scary being pregnant, but I’m blessed with a supportive family and supportive boyfriend (y’all’s daddy) and his family. I laugh a lot and I get really angry a lot but I rarely cry these days, which is frustrating, because there are a lot of times where I think I should just sit down and cry. It would get rid of a lot of pent up aggression and whatnot. I’ve never done drugs and I don’t like alcohol. I love all music, except your dad’s favorite thing to listen to, which is a strange parody band that should probably be wiped off the face of the earth. But I’m not biased. AT ALL. Personally, I like country, alternative rock and hip-hop. And the musical music. Some indie, which is a genre that doesn’t quite make sense to me. Anything I can dance to gets a pass, as well. I like classical if I’m playing it on the piano or guitar. But I was raised on country, including some of the more ridiculously good and I will do my best to help you love my music as well as cultivate an interest in what you like. You’d be amazed at some of the crap people listen to these days, though.
I lose everything. I try to love everyone, even the people that I dislike for no apparent reason. I like silver and don’t like gold. I love driving with the windows down and the music cranked up. I love candy, especially nerds. I love to read and I love the whole “vampire” concept, even though you will be WAY too young for a really long time and probably the whole thing will be out of style by the time you are old enough to understand. I wasn’t very popular in high school, but I had a close group of girl friends, who will be your “aunties” or whatever the hell they want to be called. I promise to try as hard as I can not to embarrass you. I apologize in advance for the hairiness (points at your dad). I apologize in advance for overanalyzing everything, which I am bound to do, if I become a therapist.

I love you both, with all my heart. As terrified as I am of being a mom, I also can’t wait for you to get here!
Until I write next, (tomorrow)
I love you
Your Mom

Good glord....

So….I’ve discovered that Lindt chocolate is the best chocolate on the face of the planet. Really. I just had a hazelnut flavored milk chocolate carrot (it was a shape, not a vegetable) and GOOD GOD, it was amazing. There is now a solid milk chocolate bunny frozen in my freezer and it is so very hard not to devour it. However, chocolate has this amazing effect on me in that it is a depressant. Yea, I know, I hate my life too. But, if I eat it with something, the effects are somewhat less harsh.

After adopting a four month old Rottweiler, my life has somewhat departed from the normal realms of sanity. Not that a 19 year old having twins is in any way SANE but let’s all take a second and remember my cat. Who hates the dog. Sort of. In a “Stop chasing me, you crazy bitch” way. My puppys name is Grace and she is ridiculously large and playful. And inside the house, which leads to all sorts of shenanigans. And not graceful ones. She is very sweet though, and that makes up for all the crazies. The cute and the fun factor is high. Especially when she starts licking my ankles. By the size of her paws, she is going to be humongous! And I can’t wait. Has anyone read that book Good Dog Carl? If not, go acquire it. It is a sweet picture book that everyone needs to read.

You know the critic from Ratatoille? I think I should be him when I grow up. Angry and scary and skinny and a food lover. If I can’t cook, I’ll critique and piss people off. It sounds like an entertaining job. MWAHAHAHA. That guy sounds JUST like Frollo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Sexy voice, creepy ass man. By that I mean Frollo.

Boyd: We're pimps and killers, but in a philanthropic way.

Echo: You think we're gods?
Alpha: We're not just humans anymore. We're not multiple personalities. We're many personalities. Uh... one of my personalities happens to be a multiple personality, but that doesn't make me a multiple personality. I'm looking for a little nuance here.
Echo: We're not gods.
Alpha: Fine, Übermensch. Nietzsche predicted our rise. Perfected. Objective. Something new.
Echo: Right. New, superior people. With a little German thrown in. What could possibly go wrong?



My new favorite show is Kitchen Nightmares. I think it’s just disturbing enough for me not to go completely insane. Gordon Ramsay’s smart mouth makes me very happy and I like watching the transformations. Some are easier than others, but in the end, so far, they all work out. This satisfies my intense need for a happy ending. Plus, Gordon Ramsay is hot. And apparently forty. God, this is like my Viggo Mortenson crush all over again.

Sigh

My body is changing and this disturbs me greatly. My tummy hasn’t gotten humongous or anything, it’s simply that whenever I look down, things look different. Radically, to me, in any case. I doubt very much that anyone who doesn’t know me exceptionally well should be able to tell.

It is somewhat scary though. The biggest changes my body has gone through are horrific growing pains in elementary school and my boobs popping out freshman year. Both of those were painful and horrifying in my young mind, so I’m having a hard time keeping a positive state of mind at this point. Positivity has never been my strong suite in any case. Maybe for other people but not for me. Hooray for sweats!

My list of things to worry about gets longer and longer and longer. I know I’ll probably be living in my current house for at least the next two years and don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy that its even an option, but it’s still a long and frusterating roud. One that I chose, but difficult nevertheless.

Random rantings

My kitten is spying on the neighbors. Or perhaps he's getting a tan. In any case, he's lying in the windowsill, looking pleased as punch to be so warm and happy. I can't believe that just a few hours ago, sunlight hurt my eyes, and I couldn't even eat one of my fudge brownies without feeling ridiculously ill. I feel so blessed right now, especially after the last few days and weeks of feeling so horrific. Nothing was pleasureable or funny and everything seemed so frusterating, even reading one of my beloved books. I feel normal, which equates wonderful in my book, so my urge to go out and play outside is just overwhelming. I'm excited to go to work because I am dying to go and play or laugh or sing or whatever. I'm so thankful for a boss who loves country music as much as I do.

“I never trusted a man who never smoked or drank.” – Abraham Lincoln.

“Fighting should always be the last resort. But sometimes you just have to punch a guy in the nose.” – Unknown.

"A woman likes a man who breaks the rules once in a while. After all, isn't that what romance is all about?" ~Morticia

“When you stare into an abyss for a long time, the abyss also stares into you.” – Nietzsche

I'm also starving for the first time in weeks. Hooray for DOUBLE the hormones while pregnant. Fortunately, all my clothes still fit and no one can tell, with the exception of the parents and possibly the boyfriend. You have to look really really hard to be able to tell that my body is changing. Thank God for small favors. I'm also one of the blessed few women I know who is secure in her body. I'm sure that will change as the months go on, but what the hell, I'm enjoying the big damn boobs while I can. If that makes me a bad person, I don't wanna be good!!!

I'm also going to blame crying while watching Buffy on hormones. In my defense, it was a intensely sad episode, but I felt like a total pussy afterwards. Perhaps I should watch Firefly instead... Time to nut up or shut up. Or alternately tonight, after doing the long ass shift, I will watch Pirates. Yes, I think that is a good waste of my time. I will write long rants about my life and watch Pirates of the Carribean 2 &3 or Inglorious Basterds and be vastly disturbed (again) by the the incredible and fufilling violence of that particular movie. I would watch Aliens, but even I know I can't watch that movie by myself. I'm so very very proud.

Or I could just do what I'm doing now. Listening to incredibly sexual country music by Garth Brooks (kudos if you can figure out any song by him that is deliciously sensual). I actually heard this song on the radio while I was working for the first day and I swear I was turning many colors....I heard songs like this when I was young and had NO IDEA what they were talking about. I guess that's the difference between now and then. Back then, things were implied. They were sensual and sexy but not overtly sex filled. Now I am innundated with songs that aren't even nice and censored (the room is the g-spot, i can make your bed rock). YOU ARE WHAT? Please spare me, you creepy bastard.

Blahblahblah....

Hello, my faithful followers! While I am quite sure right now that there is only one of you, or possibly two. Probably one. In any case, my apologies for not being as prolific as I usually am. I recieved quite a shock on Wednesday when I went to visit my obi-gyn.


Apparently I am pregnant with twins. Identical ones. This fact blows my mind on a level that I thought could not be overtaken since I discovered I was, in fact, pregnant. My boyfriend and I used to joke about how, once we were married and had were starting to have kids, it would be awesome to have twins, although the probability of that was incredibly small. Or, so it seemed. (insert laughter of the gods here). We would argue about names (because, sorry Mike, NO STAR WARS REFERENCES). However, I now have a tendency to look at the sky and be like "WHAT THE HELL? WE WERE JUST TALKING!" But God has a sense of irony, humor and obviously trusts me with much more than I trust myself. The idea of that scares the crap out of me, but obviously no one was asking MY opinion.


So, twins. The idea of just having a baby at this age (the tender age of 18-19) scares the ever loving crud out of me. I still go to the beach (tempting the flesh eating bacteria) and never have enough money for ANYTHING. I love to read my books and watch Buffy and write angry self-effacing poetry. Just kidding, I gave that up after a crush went horribly wrong freshman year. I think I traded it for ridiculously anti-social hysterical laughter. Another semi-problematic social behavior. I got a text from a friend yesterday that summarizes this "To be honest, this is a huge shock. We're almost the same age, but you're walking into a new stage of life that I'm not going to be ready for for years."


Here's the difference between me and him. I know this isn't the optimum time. But I have to prepare myself anyway. I have to be the best I can be. And while that isn't the easiest thing to do, because, let's face it, this isn't the easiest path I've chosen, but it is the right one. Moving forward rather than burying my head in the sand. Am I scared? Of course I'm fucking scared. Are you kidding? But I know I am capable. I am woman hear me roar! But really, I am a strong, capable woman. I made the choice that led to this. I can handle the rest. And as the same friend pointed out, it won't be just me. I have a feeling that familial involvement in my children was gonna happen regardless of the time period they happened in. It will be more intense, but handling it all by myself would be a lot harder.

Having two babies at once is gonna be....interesting. Helloooo no sleeping! However, I've done it before (little brother) so I know it is doable and I can survive. Also, I'm having these children during the days that (according to the less sane of my friends) I should be out and about partying and drinking and whatnot, and this seems like a semi-healthier alternative. People really do die from going out and doing things like that, but they generally don't from staying up all night with crying babies. And I’ll be able to get school done, at the very minimal least.

I have family and friends who love babies and are dying to help. I just need to live through the pregnancy first. Quite honestly, about 2 weeks ago, I’d have been betting that I wouldn’t. That’s how bad the morning sickness got. All day, every day. And it finally stopped around eleven last night due to some excellent medication. PRAISE JESUS, JOSEPH AND MARY!


I have Rhapsody in Blue stuck in my head. I'm battling it with my Itunes and a sweet silver kitten in my lap who does his best to gnaw on my wrists. The irony of my two nicknames combining in my pet is a silly thing, but it feels like poetic justice to me.


I'm working tonight from 5:30 until midnight. Ouch. Oh well. Money is money. And thankfully, I enjoy this job.